


The West End Imbroglio

by septmars



Category: Sprig Muslin - Georgette Heyer
Genre: Adventure, F/M, Guns, Hijinks & Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 09:32:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13678986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/septmars/pseuds/septmars
Summary: Amanda and Hildebrand burst forth into the parlour.“Oh, Aunt Hester, you have to help us!”





	The West End Imbroglio

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DaisyNinjaGirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaisyNinjaGirl/gifts).



The west parlour, with its French doors and ample view of the garden, was Lady Hester’s favourite room in Ludlow House at Berkeley Square. She usually did her writing here, surrounded by sunlight and greenery. This habit persisted even in her pregnancy, to the consternation of her husband; he preferred if she did not negotiate the stairs in her delicate state.

“It’s just the stairs, Gareth,” she soothed her husband for the nth time. “It’s not like I’m walking to Hyde Park.”

“I greatly prefer you walk to Hyde Park,” retorted Sir Gareth. “At least the road is flat!”

Lady Hester smiled indulgently. “No need to worry so much about me, dearest.” She kissed her husband’s cheek. “I am not made of glass, you know.”

Sir Gareth’s face softened. He took his wife’s hand and squeezed it.

“I know,” said he. “I couldn’t help.”

He reluctantly left his wife to her writings, but not after indulging in a few more minutes of pleasant embrace.

Lady Hester began attending to her correspondences. Since marrying Sir Gareth, her social schedule was consistently full. There were gossips about them, of course, mainly wondering why a man as handsome as Sir Gareth would settle with an old spinster like her. However, Lady Hester ignored them with grace and sooner or later the talks subsided, especially when it became known that she was in the family way.

She was writing a response to her friend the Countess of St. Erth when her butler entered, looking thoroughly harried.

“My lady, there are—“

Just then, Amanda and Hildebrand burst forth into the room.

“Oh, Aunt Hester, you have to help us!” Amanda cried, rushing towards her.

“Now, just wait, Amanda! We shouldn’t bother Aunt Hester when she is heavy with child!” said Hildebrand.

Although their sojourn at the Bull Inn had long ended, Amanda and Hildebrand never quite ceased calling Sir Gareth and Lady Hester Uncle and Aunt. Indeed, Sir Gareth and Lady Hester have come to bemusedly regard Amanda and Hildebrand as their errant niece and nephew who required rescuing from time to time.

“Be quiet, Hildebrand! It’s your fault we’re in trouble in the first place!” said Amanda.

“ _My fault_?” Hildebrand spluttered, indignant. “I’m not the one who came up with the hare-brained scheme of pretending to be siblings!”

Amanda had a retort ready at the tip of her tongue, but Lady Hester stopped her before she spoke.

“It’s better if we talk about this over tea. Liddell, can you please bring a couple of chairs for Mr Ross and Mrs Kendal?” said Lady Hester to her scandalized butler.

—

After chairs were brought and tea served, Amanda and Hildebrand began telling Lady Hester about their predicament at the same time. Unfortunately, this meant that they often got into arguments about the veracity of their claims. Through several shouting matches, and a large amount of sweets, Lady Hester arrived to the conclusion.

“So, in order to gain a support from Henry Fielding, who is a prominent West End agent, for Hildebrand’s play, you both pretend to be a pair of siblings,” Lady Hester said. “But that agent is then revealed to be the father of an actress Hildebrand is in love with, and a friend of General Summercourt’s.”

“Well, ‘in love with’ is a tad too much,” Hildebrand interrupted, blushing. “I prefer ‘admire.’”

“Quite. Then, at a luncheon, you both encountered General Summercourt, who angrily exposed your ruse. And now, both the agent and the actress refuse to speak with you.”

“It’s worse than that, Aunt Hester! Cecily is planning to marry an odious Baron in Surrey! I learnt it from Billy Duvall and I saw Cecily with the Baron with my own eyes,” said Amanda passionately. “Aunt Hester, you have to convince Cecily to leave the Baron and ask her father to stage Hildebrand’s play!”

Privately, Lady Hester thought this was a very tall order; it would seem that Hildebrand and Amanda believed she could conjure doves out of thin air if she liked. But their visit put Lady Hester in good spirits. She hadn’t seen the dear children for quite some time, and her husband’s protective tendencies meant that she had little opportunity to have physical activity since her delicate state was known. Although she knew that Gareth meant well, Hester was beginning to chafe at her confines.

Besides, who knew what mischief Hildebrand and Amanda would get into without her chaperonage?

“Alright, I would like to help to free Cecily from the clutches of that evil Baron,” Hester said good-naturedly. “But I am afraid I can’t go to Surrey in my condition. Perhaps you have something for me to do in London?”

“Of course, we didn’t expect you to go with us to Surrey!” Hildebrand rushed to say, glaring at Amanda. “I don’t think the Baron is currently there, anyways—Billy said he has a place in Hanover Square and would probably remain there until the marriage.”

“How very kind of Billy Duvall to provide us with these information! I don’t suppose he knows the title of this Baron, so we may begin our search?”

“I heard him introduced himself as Baron Roxbury,” Amanda supplied.

“Excellent detective work, Amanda!” said Hester approvingly.

Lady Hester bent upon her table to reach for a book in the drawer. Hildebrand moved forward to help her, but Lady Hester waved him off with a smile. After some difficulty, she produced the latest volume of _Debrett’s Peerage_ and began leafing through the pages.

“Now! Let’s see…R…Roxbury…here we are!” Lady Hester held the book in triumph and began to read aloud. “Baron Roxbury: a lesser title held by the Earl of Golney and usually reserved for heirs to the earldom. Currently held by James Huntington-Packer, 7th Baron Roxbury. Ah, and here is the address for their London residence: Golney House, 23 Hanover Square. Dear _Debrett’s_ , always so dependable!”

“We must go there immediately!” Hildebrand leapt to his feet. “Cecily might be held there!”

“Please wait a little, Hildebrand,” Lady Hester said, eyes twinkling. She could see clearly how much Hildebrand had admired Cecily Fielding. “We can’t possibly go to an Earl’s house without a proper introduction—or an appropriate story! Now, let me think.”

According to _Debrett’s_ , the Earl of Golney was as old as the Earl of Brancaster. Earls tend to frequent the same establishments, so there was a very high probability that the Earl of Golney was acquainted with Lady Hester’s father. She could say that her father instructed her to pay visit to one of his old acquaintances, and that Hildebrand and Amanda were her maternal cousins (they were too old to be her nephews and it was well-known that the Earl of Brancaster has only one brother, still unmarried).

Lady Hester relayed her plan to Amanda and Hildebrand. She was confident that they were resourceful enough to adjust to any hurdles. Thus, armed with Lady Hester’s calling card, they entered the villain’s lair.

—

It was an understatement to say that the Ludlow House butler did not approve of Lady Hester’s excursion. Liddell was immensely fond of Lady Hester and held her in high regard, but he never approved of her and Sir Gareth’s young friends (as he privately called Amanda and Hildebrand). They were much too loud for his liking, and he rather unkindly thought they liked to take advantage of Sir Gareth’s and Lady Hester’s generosity.

So when Lady Hester ordered the carriage and told him she was going to walk to the house of an old acquaintance of her father with her young friends, Liddell was immediately alarmed. Sir Gareth had told him to dissuade Lady Hester from doing heavy physical activity in her delicate state and Liddell was anxious to follow his Master’s word to the letter, especially owing to what happened with Master Arthur and young Miss Clarissa.

But none of his entreaty and imploration affected his mistress’s resolve. Lady Hester also refused his pleas to take Povey with her, cheerily stating that Mrs Kendal would be more than capable of accompanying her, and thus Liddell was forced to take drastic action: he sent a page-boy with a note to Sir Gareth’s club informing him of Lady Hester’s plan.

Sir Gareth was having lunch with Sir Waldo Hawkridge and the Duke of Salford when he received Liddell’s note. Its contents caused him to abandon his meal and nearly succumb to an apoplectic fit.

“What in the deuce is going on, Ludlow?” demanded the Duke of Salford, who was mildly irritated of having his lunch ruined. The lunch, of course, was nothing more than an excuse for the three of them to talk business, but the Duke was quite fond of White’s cold cut ham with cranberry sauce. Sir Gareth’s near-hysterics marred his enjoyment.

“It’s my wife!” Sir Gareth said, in strangled accents. “She’s—she’s been swept up in one of Amanda and Hildebrand’s scheme! Again! And in her current state! Excuse me, gentlemen, I must go!”

Sir Gareth dashed away from the club, leaving his friends behind to contemplate the news they just overheard.

“I did not think Lady Hester to be so reckless to have an adventure while in the family way,” Sir Waldo observed mildly.

“Indeed,” said the Duke, focusing on his ham. “I gather she was much more, ah, practical.”

“Well, I find that practical ladies often _do_ have a streak of spiritedness,” Sir Waldo said with a smile, thinking of his wife and the scrapes they had.

“Quite,” the Duke agreed, his mind drifting from the ham to his own maddening, infuriating Duchess.

The men passed the rest of the meal in relative silence, quietly contemplating on the mysteries of women.

—

Lady Hester attacked the Earl of Golney’s astonished butler with her calling card and her sunniest smile. She recited their cover story with perfect equanimity and relied on Amanda’s incessant chatter to make up for any deficiencies. The butler was defeated and had no choice but to admit Lady Hester, Hildebrand, and Amanda into the parlour while they waited for the Earl.

Hildebrand was nervous and high-spirited. Much like that fateful day, many months ago, he’s fashioned himself as a romantic knight rescuing a damsel in distress.

Lady Hester patted his hand in an assuring manner. “It’s alright, Hildebrand,” she whispered. “We will rescue your Cecily.”

Hildebrand smiled weakly at her.

Amanda had none of Hildebrand’s nervousness. She boldly surveyed the Earl’s parlour, taking in his china and furniture. Lady Hester recognized the look on her face. She had seen it before on the Bull Inn and Brancaster Park. It was her scheming face, as Sir Gareth called it, not without affection.

The butler announced the Earl. Lady Hester and her party rose.

The Earl was an imposing man. He was well-over six feet tall and had the body of an aging sportsman. His hair was grey all-over but he made no pains to disguise it with a wig, as men his age was wont to do.

Lady Hester now doubted the wisdom of using her father as a cover story. The Earl was evidently not a member of his set.

“Well, well!” the Earl boomed. “This is a shocking surprise! You must be Lady Hester, I presume; Brancaster’s daughter?” He nodded to Lady Hester. “Your father and I often meet at the club, but we are not so close of a friend that he would send his pregnant daughter to my house! What really brings you here, child?”

“Well—“

“It’s true that Uncle Brancaster did not send us,” said Amanda. “We just used him as an excuse to meet you! It is Lord Roxbury we have business with.”

“James, eh?” the Earl looked at Amanda through his quizzing-glass. “You are his friends? Or his creditors?”

“Acquaintances! We meet sometimes at West End; he loves the theatre. We are here to meet him regarding some theatrical matter.”

“My James loves the theatre?” the Earl scoffed. “It’s possible, but I very much doubt it! But you are in bad luck. He is not in England; he has gone to Vienna.”

“What!” Hildebrand gasped. “But that couldn’t be true! I saw him yesterday, attending Winslow’s _Midsummer’s Night Dream_!”

“You must have mistaken him for someone else. My James has gone to Vienna with Sir Horace Stanton-Lacy and his party for diplomatic business since six months ago. He couldn’t have watched _A Midsummer’s Night Dream_ , unless it was staged at the Vienna Opera House!”

“But I heard him introduce himself as Baron Roxbury!”

“I tell you, boy, you must be mistaken!”

“We are not mistaken!” Amanda insisted. “It must have been your son, because he is the spitting image of that portrait above the fireplace!”

“What in the seven hells are you talking about, little lady?” the Earl thundered. “My James is dark, like his mother. That is the portrait of my late brother, the great General Huntington-Packer!”

“Oh!” said Lady Hester. “Does the late General have any sons, my lord?”

“One son and two daughters—oho! Oh I see, now! Matthew that little rascal!” the Earl growled. “I _do_ beg your pardon,” he said roughly to Amanda and Hildebrand. “It seemed that you have encountered my errant nephew! Please, sit.”

Amanda and Hildebrand took their seat with a self-satisfied air. The Earl rung the bell and asked his butler to bring in some refreshments for Lady Hester and her cousins. After tea was served, Lady Hester began telling the Earl of his nephew’s exploits, with occasional interjections from Hildebrand and Amanda.

“Well, I must say!” the Earl said, after Lady Hester was finished. “I beg your pardon, again! I should have known it was Matthew you were talking about. He likes actresses and often used my James’s name when they were young. But James grew out of that horrible phase, and I thought Matthew had too. It seems I was mistaken!”

“That is very unfortunate,” Lady Hester said sympathetically. “Do you have any idea where Mr Huntington-Packer would be? Poor Cecily Fielding thought she would be marrying a rich Baron. How very disappointed she would be if she knew the truth!”

“My brother has a place in Richmond, ten miles from here,” said the Earl. “I’d wager Matthew would be there. I’ve closed up my Surrey estate and he’d have no chance of opening it. But the Richmond staff is very loyal to Matthew and could be induced to play along with his wicked scheme. If you take my carriage with you, they would readily open the gate and cause no uproar.”

“Oh, how very kind of you, my lord!”

“I insist! It’s the least I could do after what my nephew had done! And Matthew is known to be armed; I would be glad if your cousin brought some sort of protection with him.”

“Thank you for your warning, my lord! We must really go now; time is of the essence!”

Lady Hester rose, and Hildebrand, Amanda and the Earl followed her.

“Please, my lady, let my man escort you back to your house,” the Earl said to Hester.

“I thank you, my lord, but that won’t be necessary—I intend to go with my cousins!” said Hester firmly.

“But it would be dangerous!”

“I understand! But I’m confident I shall be fine,” said Hester, a determined glint in her eyes.

The Earl barked a laughter. “You remind me of my dear wife—she shot a highwayman while pregnant with my James. I can’t believe you’re old Brancaster’s daughter!”

“I shall take that as a compliment, my lord.” Hester smiled. “Now, we _really_ must go!”

—

Sir Gareth missed his wife and cousins by twenty minutes, the Earl’s beleaguered butler told him. After extracting their destination, Sir Gareth dashed to his curricle and set out to follow them.

It was a testament to his skill that he managed to meet them in Hammersmith. The roads were busy with traffic, but Sir Gareth managed to position his curricle side-by-side with the Earl’s carriage and shouted at the groom to stop.

They both came to a stop at a shady alcove near the Park. Sir Gareth stepped down from his curricle and demanded the Earl’s footmen to open the chaise door.

Hildebrand was nervously hunched in his seat, Amanda beside him, looking proud and very much like a General’s granddaughter. Lady Hester was knitting.

“Hello, Gareth,” his wife said pleasantly. “I thought you were having lunch with Sir Waldo and the Duke of Salford?”

“I was, until I received a note from Liddell, telling me that you were embroiled in some maddened scheme of Amanda’s!” he retorted.

“Is that so? Then that’s very bad of Liddell!”

“On the contrary, madam, I thought of giving him a raise for his presence of mind in the face of irrationality!” Sir Gareth said savagely. “Just what are you thinking about, Hester, running wild when you’re heavily pregnant!”

“Oh, I must admit that I’ve been quite naughty,” said Lady Hester. “But you must consider the circumstances, Gareth! Hildebrand has, ah, admired a lady—and she is about to marry a mountebank who fraudulently claims to be a Baron. So you see, we must act fast and put a stop to it.”

“Yes, I do quite understand! What I don’t understand is why _you_ need to go with them!”

“But, Gareth!” said Lady Hester, aghast. “You don’t mean to leave Amanda and Hildebrand without a _chaperone_?”

“You forget, my dear, that Amanda is married now; she doesn’t need a chaperone.”

“But think of the scrapes they would get into without a chaperone! Those poor people!” said Lady Hester seriously.

Despite the gravity of the situation, Sir Gareth laughed.

Amanda seized this opportunity. “Oh, please do let Aunt Hester come, Uncle Gary!” she cried. “She’s been a great help. Why, if it weren’t for Aunt Hester, we would have been thrown out from an Earl’s house!”

“As you should be!” Sir Gareth retorted. “Your Aunt Hester is quite vulnerable and defenceless in her current state. She is in no shape to help you!”

“But I’m not _entirely_ defenceless, Gareth—Hildebrand brought my pistol with him, see. So you needn’t to worry!”

“Oh, I know I could rely on you, Aunt Hester!” Amanda said giddily. “See, Uncle Gary, we’re all going to be quite alright. In fact, if you really are worried, you’re welcome to come with us and see to Aunt Hester’s safety for yourself!”

“I shall do no such thing!”

“Amanda, what a capital idea!” said Lady Hester. “I know you’re terribly worried, my love, but we’re already halfway to Richmond—it would be _quite_ a waste if we turn back now. And the Earl of Golney had been so kind to lend us his carriage! Please, Gareth, come with us?”

Lady Hester sent a pleading look at him. Amanda and Hildebrand followed her example. Sir Gareth, never one to deny the wishes of his wife, was in turmoil. Finally, he yielded.

“Alright! I shall go with you—but Hester, you _must_ be within my sight at all times!”

—

Pickters, General Huntington-Packer’s Richmond residence, was a Gothic mansion with high iron-wrought gates and a thoroughly unkempt garden. Amanda liked it very much, for it looked like the kind of residence an evil Baron (or someone pretending to be a Baron) would have.

Like the Earl predicted, the guards let them in without much fanfare. They were welcomed by an astonished butler, who had expected the Earl but was soon soothed by one of Amanda’s stories.

“You must be one of Master Matthew’s friends, here for the wedding?” the butler said.

“Yes. But you need not to announce our presence, I thank you! We would like our arrival here to be a surprise,” Amanda said firmly.

The butler nodded, having been accustomed to Master Matthew’s peculiar friends and their terrible manners. They were escorted to the dining room to meet the rest of the wedding-party.

“Just a moment!” Hildebrand interrupted before the butler opened the dining room door. “Has—has the wedding been conducted yet?”

“No, sir; they are still waiting for the priest.”

“Right! There’s still time for our surprise then!” said Amanda, with a quelling look to Hildebrand.

With this matter settled, the butler opened the door and they burst into the room.

The wedding-party was meagre, consisting only of a sober-faced Cecily, an old man presumed to be her father, and the errant Matthew Huntington-Packer, a spitting image of his late sire. They were enjoying a pathetic meal of thinly sliced quail and rose into an uproar when Lady Hester’s party entered the room.

“What in the devil is going on?” the false Baron of Roxbury said, the thunderous effect that he had intended rather ruined by the natural tenor of his voice.

“Unhand Cecily, you villain!” Hildebrand said with all the aplomb of a West End performer. “We have met your uncle and we know the truth! We know the _real_ Baron of Roxbury is in Vienna and you are nothing but an impostor!”

“An impostor?” it was old Henry Fielding’s turn to be outraged. “Hildebrand Ross! Is this one of your fairy-tales again?”

“Oh, I am afraid it is _not_ ,” said Lady Hester. Her quiet but firm voice managed to stun the three men from further quarrel.

“Who in the damned hells are you?” demanded Matthew Huntington-Packer.

“Watch your language, you impudent imp,” Sir Gareth sharply said. “That lady you are talking to is _my_ wife, Lady Hester Ludlow.”

“I am _quite_ sorry that I haven’t introduced myself,” Hester said with an apologetic smile and a reassuring pat on Sir Gareth’s arms. “And I am sorry that we have to be introduced this way, but Amanda and Hildebrand wanted to take you all by surprise, see, so it couldn’t be helped. I am Lady Hester Ludlow and this is my husband Sir Gareth Ludlow. We visited the Earl of Golney—a _dear_ friend of my father, the Earl of Brancaster—on behalf of Amanda and Hildebrand, who said they were acquainted with his son, Baron of Roxbury. But the Earl told us the _most_ astonishing story; his son was abroad since at least six months ago and so he could not be frequenting West End, like Amanda and Hildebrand had claimed. _And_ the Earl said his son was dark like his mother, so he could not be the fair-haired baron that Amanda and Hildebrand had seen so much of. But he _did_ have a fair brother, the General Huntington-Packer, and a nephew who was the very image of his late brother.”

“So I’m afraid, sir,” Hester addressed Henry Fielding, who had turned purple. “That the rich Baron you had hoped for your daughter is nothing but an _impostor_ , as dear Hildebrand put it.”

“I—I—well!” Fielding sputtered. Hester’s story pierced his dignity, exposing him as a fraud. But he _couldn’t_ contradict a lady, and such a well-bred one, too; it would be bad manners.

Matthew Huntington-Packer decided to cut this Gordian knot of respectability by taking out his gun.

“So you have found me out!” he laughed in a maniacal way more suited for gaunt vampiric uncles. “In a short while, Cecily shall be mine and there is nothing you all can do to stop me. Fielding here will be forced to go through the marriage, as no one _respectable_ would marry her if they’d heard what happened here—and as for the rest of you! You will not reveal this to anyone else, unless you want a bullet struck through your heart!”

Amanda gasped: she had found her villain in the fair and youthful Matthew Huntington-Packer. His speech had all the hallmarks of the dramatic villain that she wished Sir Gareth would be when she chose him to be her kidnapper, all those months ago, and she quickly seized the opportunity.

“You shall not get away with this, you _rogue_!” said Amanda, in a heroine-like manner. “Hildebrand also has a gun and he _will_ use it.”

“Y-yes!” Hildebrand said, pulling his gun out with shaking hands. “I—I’ve shot someone b—before, so I’m n—not afraid of you!”

Matthew threw his head back and laughed. “A greenhorn like you, shooting a gun? You are shaking! I cannot—“

But he never finished that sentence, because he was interrupted. By his bride-to-be.

“Oh, this is stupid!” Cecily Fielding, who had been roundly forgotten, huffed. She picked up a decorative wooden statue from the dining table and threw it in Matthew’s direction.

It hit his hand. The gun flew out of his grasp and clattered to the floor, five feet away. Too stunned to move, he was beaten to the gun by little Cecily.

“Now, listen here!” she shouted with all the charisma and commanding presence that she employed in her profession. Her visage was the perfect picture of angelic rage as she held the gun with the self-assuredness of a Corinthian.

“I am tired of being embroiled in this mess! Father, I love you, but the only reason I chose to marry this—this person was to make you happy and alleviate the family debt. I _will not_ marry a poor fraud and you cannot _make_ me,” she said to her shocked parent.

“And as for you.” Cecily turned to his former husband-to-be. “You are addle-brained if you think that _I_ will marry you just to save my reputation. I have not been compromised. If and when everything is revealed, _you_ are the one who shall emerge with a besmirched reputation. And if you think of even taking a step closer, I shall shoot you!”

“Now, Cecily you dear goose! You are no doubt very much aggravated, pet. Be a dear and give my gun back, will you?” Matthew said with a patronizing smile.

He took a step. There was a bang, a loose bullet, and then a bloody shoulder.

“Oh!” Matthew cried, slumping to the floor. “I’ve been shot!”

Hildebrand saw the blood of his adversary and promptly fainted.

—

Lady Hester had the unenviable task of cleaning up the resulting chaos. She directed Matthew Huntington-Packer’s poor butler to move his injured master to a sofa and fetch a doctor. She brought the shaken Henry Fielding to recuperate in a chair. She oversaw Sir Gareth and Amanda’s effort to revive Hildebrand. She calmed down a hysterical Cecily Fielding, who, although showing great temerity in her dealing with Matthew Huntington-Packer, became inconsolable when faced with an unconscious Hildebrand.

After Hildebrand had opened his eyes again and reunited with his beloved Cecily, Lady Hester checked with the injured Huntington-Packer. He had already seen by a doctor and a fresh dressing was wrapped around his shoulder. The doctor said the injury was not grave, it was only a graze, but it was sufficient to make Matthew reconsider his lot in life. After all, gentlemen do not get shot by their would-be fiancée.

“I am contrite, my lady,” he said gravely. “Many times my uncle told me that if I continue to go in this manner, I shall be shot. I did not believe him then, but alas his prediction has come true.”

“The counsels of wise men often come true, and from the short acquaintance I have with your uncle, he is a very wise man,” Hester said. “But you are young still and has many years ahead of you. You can start your redemption by first apologizing to poor Cecily, who is the true victim in all this chaos.”

After being reassured by Matthew that he will do as she told, Lady Hester left him to recuperate. She did not trust him to actually follow her advice, but in her opinion she had done her best to mend this imbroglio; she will now leave Matthew at the mercy of his uncle.

Amanda and Gareth was crowding around Hildebrand, who was seated in the drawing room. He was embarrassed of fainting at the sight of blood, but his conduct made him better in the eyes of his beloved Cecily. She thought of him as a romantic, pacifist hero who had braved dangerous situations to rescue her (though, as she insisted, she did not really need saving). Meanwhile, her chagrined fortune-hunter father was left twiddling his thumbs in the edge of the living room.

“Well, all’s well that ends well, I suppose,” Gareth said. “I couldn’t think of a better resolution to the situation. Come, now, Hildebrand, Amanda. Let us all go home and put this day’s adventure to rest.”

“Oh, I cannot wait to tell all of this to Neil!” Amanda excitedly said. “He must be so bored there in Spain and—uh, Aunt Hester why is the carpet under you wet?”

Everybody looked down. Indeed, the spot on the carpet where Lady Hester previously stood had darkened.

“Dear me, I think it’s starting,” Lady Hester said, clutching her abdomen. “Gareth, it appears I’m early!”

—

If anyone had doubted Sir Gareth’s riding skills, they would have changed their opinion if they saw how he rode after hearing his wife was in labour. He drove like he was Poseidon himself, and that his horses were an extension of his being; so fast did he ride, so skilfully did he negotiate every turn, so obedient was his horses. He managed to get to Berkeley Square in record time, and after seeing Hester safely ensconced in the bedroom, he drove to Marylebone to fetch the doctor.

Sir Gareth was not allowed to enter the birthing room and had to amuse himself by pacing around the library. Hildebrand tried to distract him by talking about some books or another, but all Gareth could think about was Hester—how was she doing? Was she well? Would everything go smoothly? Amanda and his sister were in the birthing room with Hester, so he told himself that everything would be all right. Everything had to be all right.

Nine hours passed. Eventually, Hildebrand slept in the sofa over the fireplace—exhausted over his shares of the day’s adventures—but Gareth was too high-strung to sleep. He released all his pent-up energy by practicing his pugilistic drills, a better distraction than reading. Or trying to read.

Then, the library door opened. Beatrice and Amanda entered the room.

“Gareth, it’s done,” Beatrice said, with a knowing smile. “Come and see your child.”

“Is Hester okay?” Gareth leapt up to his feet.

“Aunt Hester is fine, Uncle Gary, and so’s the baby.” Amanda said, excitement all over her face. “Come, come you have to see them!”

Gareth almost-ran to the bedroom, nearly knocking over the doctor and the midwife. He found Hester lying in the bed, slick with sweat, looking a little bit worn out but as healthy and _alive_ as ever. She was nursing their baby, who also looked quite healthy. Gareth smiled and walked over to Hester’s side…

…only to find out that she was nursing _another_ baby.

“Oh dear,” Sir Gareth said, slumping to a chair by the bed.

“Gareth!” Lady Hester said, glowing like every new mother. “Now we know why I was so big: twins! A boy and a girl, and each one hearty and hale. What should we name them?”

Gareth’s hands was clammy and he felt dizzy. _Twins_? He’d never signed up for twins: having one child at a time is enough hassle, if one could look at poor Bea for an example. Now he had to have _two_ of them at the same time?

“Well, we agreed to name him Arthur if it was a boy,” Sir Gareth said hoarsely. _Twins_. “I don’t know about girls—Bea refused to lend her name—maybe we can name her after one of your sister’s?”

“Oh, please _don’t_. It will only make them squabble, and I don’t like them enough to name my daughter after one of them. Oh! How about Amanda?”

“ _Amanda_?”

“Yes. If it weren’t for that dear child, we wouldn’t be here, would we? It would be a nice tribute and Amanda is _such_ a pretty name. We could make her a godmother alongside Hildebrand—oh! Perhaps we should have Hildebrand as Arthur’s middle name too?”

“Now that’s a bit much, Hester. No child of mine will be named _Hildebrand_ , I thank you!” Sir Gareth retorted, recovering slightly. “Good god—Hildebrand and Amanda as godparents? Think of the chaos they would bring!”

“We could always have Bea as another godmother to supervise them. Besides.” Hester smiled, eyes sparkling. “A little adventure never hurt anyone.”

Gareth laughed. “Indeed.”

He smiled fondly at the memory. Hester was right. A little adventure never hurt anyone. After all, they wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the adventure Amanda and Hildebrand had cooked up. He certainly wouldn’t be able to see _her_ true self, always obscured by her odious relatives.

“Now, can I have a look at our children?” Gareth said. “Oh—this must be Arthur; he’s a hefty boy, isn’t he? Hmm, I suppose he could have Hildebrand’s name—but perhaps his last name instead; Ross is a _much_ better name than Hildebrand. And little Amanda—ouch! I can see that she already has her namesake’s spirit even at this early age. My, I can already tell they’re going to be quite the handful.”


End file.
